


The Right Thing

by Orison



Series: Rescue Me [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 05:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orison/pseuds/Orison
Summary: Part five of the “Rescue Me” series. Steve, Danny and a tac vest.





	The Right Thing

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Here's story number five of the series. Steve, Danny and a tac vest.  
> I do not own the show or its characters so no copyright infringement intended. I'm just borrowing them to focus on what the show seems to have forgotten.
> 
> Once again, a big thank you to Susan for helping me make this little fic better. Your input is always appreciated.

***

“What is this?”

“What you mean what is this? It’s a vest. Take it.”

“It’s _your_ vest. Why are you giving me your vest?”

“Because we never put the stuff back in the trunk and there’s bad guys shooting at us,” Steve replied, looking almost affronted by the ridiculous question. The Camaro had undergone massive repairs after a collision with an armored truck and they'd had to take all the gear and equipment out. Danny had just retrieved it from the shop to meet Steve so there simply hadn't been enough time to load everything back in, and Steve wasn't going to let that mess with his partner's safety. Even if it meant lying to him. “Plus, I have another one in my truck, if you must know. So take it. Alright?”

He didn’t, of course, but knew it was the only way Danny would agree to wear it. 

He was the Navy SEAL after all. The high-end special operator for the US Government. He knew what he was doing.

Danny reluctantly grabbed the tac vest but didn't move, crossing instead his arms over his chest and eyeing the Silverado as if it had run over his favorite dog.

“What?”

“What what?”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked as he checked his gun and clipped the ear comm to his shirt.

Danny shrugged, unperturbed. “I’m waiting. For you to put your _other_ vest on. We’re partners, remember? I go where you go.”

_Really?_ Of all times and places, Danny had decided to be a pain in the ass _right now_? 

“Danny, you don’t need to wait for me. I’ll be right behind.” He moved towards the truck to grab the assault rifle, hoping his partner would take the hint and join the rest of the team.

“Uh-uh. I know you, Steven. I know all your mind tricks so don’t even think for a second that I will fall for it. We’re not going anywhere until I see you strapped on.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Danny there’s no ti—” Their bantering was suddenly cut short by the sound of gunshots filling the air. “Go! Go! Go!” he yelled, flicking off the rifle’s safety and chambering a bullet. 

Tani’s frantic voice came over the comm link a moment later. “McGarrett, we’re under fire!” 

Half the team was inside the building. 

They needed backup.

Steve’s gaze zeroed in on his partner, urging him to move. “Tani, stay put, Danny’s coming over! Junior, what’s your 20?”

“South-east corner, Sir. Trying to move forward but there’s hostiles on both sides.”

“Hold your position, I’ll be right there.” 

Danny started to leave but stopped after a few steps as if held by an invisible thread and turned around. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful.”

Steve nodded, and as soon as he saw him disappear towards the back of the building sprinted in the opposite direction, rushing towards the main entrance. Gun raised, he briefly paused at the door before going in. The warehouse was now silent, but he knew it was only temporary.

“How many?” he whispered to Junior, spotting him to his right.

“Five so far, Sir,” the younger SEAL replied.

“Tani?”

“Three on our side. Clipped one, so make that two.”

“Copy that.”

He advanced slowly, careful not to make a sound. Eight assailants armed to the teeth. This was no coincidence. Someone must’ve tipped them off about the raid.

A shuffling noise suddenly drew his attention and he dove out of the way of an onslaught of bullets, rolling behind a wooden crate just in time before they hit his position. 

_Shit._

That was close. 

“Junior, incoming!” he warned as more gunshots followed aimed at their general direction.

Huddled behind a shipping crate Steve held his breath, waiting for a break in the gunfire. Senses sharpened with adrenaline, he strained to hear with every ounce of his concentration. Boots squeaked on the pavement to his left and he turned around, spotting a silhouetted figure plastered against the nearby wall. A moment later he saw Junior sneak behind the man and break his neck, snapping it like a twig and dragging the dead body out of the way. Their eyes met, and Steve nodded in appraisal.

One dead, four to go. 

Edging forward into the gloomy warehouse, close to the wall, he saw two more targets stationed underneath a metal ladder leading up to the first floor and opened fire. They both grunted in pain and hit the ground before they even realized what had happened. 

“Everybody good?” he asked expectantly.

The question was followed by a chorus of positive answers and Steve breathed in relief. 

It only lasted a second.

“Commander, two more enemies coming to the right!” 

“Roger that, stay low!”

At the same time, a round of bullets coming from the opposite side of the building pierced the air, followed by Danny’s distressed voice. “We’re pinned down, Steve, what the hell is this?” 

Steve’s face fell. This was a set up. 

“Fall back! Fall back!” he shouted, surprised to see his adversaries advance so quickly and knowing exactly where they were. Fear gripped his heart, his pace quickening as the sound of the gunshots became louder. “Danny! I need a sit-rep now!”

“Two more on our side! This place is a death-trap, we need to get out!”

Eyes narrowing as he wracked his brain for plans of attack and ways out Steve inched deeper, Junior on his six, trying to locate the remaining gunmen. One crept towards him from the left and he took him out with a well-placed bullet to the head, propelling him backwards and onto the cold pavement. 

“Stand by! I repeat, stand by!”

He needed to draw the gunmen away from Danny, away from the team. Distract them and gain ground so the rest of 5-0 could get to safety. 

Aware of the vulnerability that came with not wearing a vest, he allowed his younger teammate to pass him and take the lead as bullets continued to fly over their heads. Despite what his partner said he valued his life, and only took risks when necessary. 

Junior immediately returned fire, hitting another one of their targets. 

Six down, two left. 

“We’re low on ammo, Steve,” Danny called out. “Now would be a really good time for one of your crazy plans!” 

Steve smiled in spite of himself, glad that his partner never seemed to lose his sense of humor despite the gravity of their situation. “Working on that, partner,” he replied as he looked around, trying to find something that could be used to create a diversion. 

He found it a second later. 

A forklift, its prongs loaded with crates and the keys conveniently in the ignition, sat not too far from him. He could use it to push his way towards the gunmen, allowing Danny and Tani to move from their unsafe position. 

Taking a deep breath, he met Junior’s eyes, silently asking him to cover him, and bolted towards the machine. Shots whizzed past him, forcing him to duck down a few times, but he managed to slide into the seat and start the engine, directing the forklift and its cargo against the last two threats to his team’s safety. Pedal to the floor, SIG in hand, he barreled straight at them and took the first one out with practiced ease. The other tried to take cover, firing blindly in his direction as he did so. 

Briefly taking his hands off the wheel to replace his empty clip, Steve reloaded his gun and shot him in the chest, killing him instantly.

Silence descended on the warehouse, so sudden and so deep it was almost deafening. 

All gunmen were dead.

His team was safe. 

“Steve, all clear on our end, we’re coming out. Thanks, buddy.” The relief in Danny’s voice was like music to his ears and Steve relaxed, slumping over in his seat and releasing a few, long breaths as he closed his eyes.

It was then that he became aware of the burning pain in his upper left arm. It spread down, radiating quickly along the whole limb. Frowning, he stared at the warm trickle of blood seeping out of the wound where one of the bullets had pierced the skin.

“Steve? Steve, do you copy? Steve! Answer me, dammit!”

The grip on his gun got weaker and he grabbed the weapon with his dominant hand, holstering it on his hip.

“Sir, you alright?” Junior’s worried tone echoed Danny’s over the comm link.

Steve stripped away the fabric of his sleeve to expose the dark hole and moved his arm slightly to take a better look at the wound. It was a through-and-through, thankfully, and although it hurt, the pain was manageable.

“I’m fine,” he reassured both, dismissing the injury as minor. “I’ll meet you outside.”

He lightly pressed his finger against the bluish-purple bruise already forming around the wound and sucked in a sharp breath as pain spiraled all over. 

Okay, maybe not _that_ minor.

Cradling his arm to his chest, he slowly made his way out of the warehouse. The adrenaline flooding his system had already started to ebb, leaving a sudden weariness in its wake. 

His eyes squinted at the sunlight, narrowing to mere slits. The team was gathered around Danny’s car and stripping out of their protective gear as they laughed at something Tani had just said. Steve smiled as well, happy to see them unwind after the intense gunfight.

Blood was still oozing out of the wound, so he bypassed the group and headed towards his truck to retrieve the first-aid kit and take care of it. 

“I knew it! I _knew_ you didn't have a spare vest! I swear to you, Steven...”

He cringed at the sound of the voice coming from behind. 

_Here we go_. 

Steve turned around and settled his uninjured arm on his hip. “Nothing happened, Danny, I’m fine.”

“You’re fi—” Danny shot him an incredulous look, hands held out in frustration. “Of course! The great Steve McGarrett doesn't need protection, right? Bullets just bounce off of you!”

“Vest wouldn’t have made a difference,” he said curtly, pointing to his bleeding arm and doing his best to ignore the dull ache that had started at the base of his skull. 

“Oh, that’s why you didn’t wear one. Because you knew you were gonna get hit in the arm!” He started to pace, his angry blue eyes daring Steve to argue his point. “Few centimeters and it would’ve been your heart! Or your lung! At least have the decency not to lie to me!”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“You _told_ me you had a spare one. But why would you need a vest anyway, huh? You didn't almost die a few years ago, or need a piece of my liver to survive! That wasn’t you, right?”

“I can’t do my job if I'm worried about you, alright?” Steve snapped, the words coming out of his mouth before he’d thought them through. “I can’t focus! So yeah, I gave you my vest so I could lead the team and execute the raid. Keep everyone safe.” He looked down at his shoes for a moment, clearing his throat. “I’m not sorry. I did what I had to, and I’d do it all over again.”

He shook his head in frustration and walked away, leaving his partner and the rest of the team to stare after him.

***

Danny found him leaning against the bumper of the Silverado, trying to apply a pressure dressing to his bleeding arm.

“I don't like it,” he said, meaning both Steve’s self-sacrificing act and the obvious pain etched on his features.

“Danny...” Steve warned. 

The blond detective lifted his hand to silence him and gently reached out to help him seal the wound. “I don't like it one bit, but I understand. I just wish you would've told me.”

“Nine years, Danny…we can’t fight about this all the time. My job…my job is make sure you— the team, gets home every night. You need to accept that.”

“Not if it means you get hurt in the process.”

Steve shook his head resolutely. “I don’t wanna do this again. Not right now. I’ve told you a thousand times. Gracie and Charlie… they need you. You have a family. A life expectancy. I’m…”

_Expendable_. 

“Stop. Right there.”

Steve didn’t. 

“I need to know that you’re okay. And until I’m no longer around I’ll make damn sure you stay that way.”

“Stubborn son of a bitch…” Danny grumbled in exasperation. “We’re not done with this, you know. I’m not letting you off the hook for this stupid theory that your life is worth less than mine just because I have kids.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“Let’s go. I’m taking you to the hospital. You can have Junior drive the truck back home.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and he reluctantly followed his partner to the Camaro. 

Danny informed the rest of the team that they were heading out, instructing them to wait for HPD before sliding into the driver’s seat, mouth set in a tight line. 

One of these days, Steve’s stubborn, selfless acts were going to drive him to an early grave, and he was running out of arguments to avoid that.

The former SEAL stood by the open door on the opposite side for a few seconds, then rested one hand on the doorframe and the other on the roof of the car, leaning in. “It was the right thing to do,” he stated, the conviction in his voice leaving no doubt about the seriousness of his words.

Danny’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “That’s debatable,” he said softly as their eyes met. The look they shared spoke of trust, love and understanding. And a care, so big and so deep they didn’t know how to express or contain it. 

“Get in,” he urged after heaving a resigned sigh. “I don’t want you to bleed out.”

Steve’s lips curled upwards and he nodded, sliding into the passenger seat.

The Camaro sped away, tires squealing, the matching smiles of the teammates they had just left behind a definite sign that everything was going to be alright.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This was the prompt:
> 
> _A and B are under fire and have only one tac vest._   
>  _A gives it to B to keep him safe, insisting that he has a spare one he can put on. He lies knowing it’s the only way B will agree to wear it._   
>  _Later, A is hit. B is not as concerned knowing he has protection…until he sees the blood._


End file.
